


Things That Can Never Be Undone

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Grayson (Comics), Midnighter (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Breakup Sex, Caught, Cheating, Dubious Consent, Fights, Heartbreak, Infidelity, M/M, Mental Anguish, Porn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Tonight may have been a mistake though, having told Dick to take an early night while he covered both of their zones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jellyfishphat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishphat/gifts).



> Commission involving Infidelity. I hope I hit all your specifics!  
> Beta: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: Unfaithful by Rihanna / Where I Wanna Be by Donnell Jones

Exhaustion hedged into Jason's mind as he climbed the three stories of stairs leading up to his and Dick's apartment. It was only his third day back in the field and he was feeling it. His body was still tired from fighting off a cold and logic told him he should be off-shift for a few more days, but Gotham had other ideas. He'd watched Dick grow more and more exhausted from covering Jason's areas as well as his own as the days went by, and so he pushed himself out of bed as soon as he knew he could take it. Tonight may have been a mistake though, having told Dick to take an early night while he covered both of their zones. Too much too soon.

With a sigh, he pushed through the heavy fire door into their hallway, breathing out a sigh of relief to get out of the stuffy heat of the stairwell. His grapple had broken halfway home and now he was stuck in some equivalent to superhero hell, hoping no one was nosy enough to see Red Hood disappear into Dick and Jason's apartment. Darting down the hall, he was quick to unlock the door and slip inside, latching the door behind him and closing it with a soft click.

He unfastened his helmet, leaving it on the arm of the couch, and began to peel up his mask. He wrinkled his nose at the pull of it against his skin. He paused at the bedroom door, removing his gloves and tucking them into his pockets, discarding his mask on the table to the right of the door and then rubbing wearily at the tender spots where the mask had stuck a bit harshly.

From inside the bedroom he heard Dick's breathy gasp and then a quiet moan. A little smirk slid over his face as he stood there, just listening to Dick getting off. He'd bide his time, let his lover get good and worked up and then he'd join him, blow off a little bit of steam. Maybe he'd just suck him, leave himself tortured and wanting until morning. 

Jason's teeth slid over his lower lip to bite lightly at it as he heard the distinct sounds of sex, imagined the porn that was playing, closed his eyes to listen to it a bit more closely. The sharp slap of skin on skin, heavy breath and the occasional grunt told him Dick was watching two men instead of some of the straight porn he had in his collection. 

The slick sound of rapid fucking met his ears and his cock started to harden in his pants, uncomfortable given he hadn't taken off his under-armor yet, but he'd live. It wasn't like it was the first boner he'd managed in his work gear. The ghost of a memory touched him, one of the rare times he'd allowed himself to get carried away in the field, a few months ago on a rooftop in Blüdhaven, he and Dick grinding up against one another only to have Bruce and Damian interrupt, much to Dick's horror and Jason's amusement.

Jason's fond smile grew and he opened his eyes again, reaching for the door handle just as he heard Dick start to clearly ramp up. He knew those noises, knew he was going to walk in on Dick losing it, probably splayed out on their bed, laptop just within his visual range, cum spurting up over his fist and hip, and Jason couldn't wait a single second more. Pushing open the door, the stepped into the room and instantly his stomach dropped. He could feel the joy fading from his face, the heat in his veins turning to ice, the love in his heart shattering into a million betrayed little pieces. 

Dick _wasn't_ alone.

The image itself would have been arousing if it hadn't been for the fact that Dick was _his_ boyfriend, _his_ lover. To make it all worse, he recognized the guy Dick was riding. 

It felt like time stood still just long enough for Jason to memorize the image of Dick riding _Midnighter's_ cock. The lean beauty of his lover's body as he moved frantically over him, his cock straining, leaking pre-cum down onto the guy's abs. He watched Midnighter thrust up into Dick's body twice more and then still with a rough groan that Jason _knew_. 

He knew that groan from porn on Dick's laptop. He knew the sound of this guy cumming because Jason had jacked off to several of those videos a number of times. He'd always thought the other guy – the one he couldn't see anything but their foot and leg and sometimes their asshole if the camera was close enough – had looked a bit like Dick. The skin color, the lean musculature of their legs...

His breath wouldn't draw into his lungs. For one panicky instant he thought he was going to pass out simply due to shock, to the feeling of his heart dying a cruel death within his chest. 

This couldn't be happening. 

Reaching up Jason rubbed his eyes, begging this to stop, hoping against hope he would move his hand and Dick would be sitting there, cum all over his fist, a shit-eating grin on his face, and _alone_.

Dropping his hand, Jason found Dick scrambling off of Midnighter's lap, confusion written on Midnighter's face and the fear so clearly displayed in Dick's body language. His gaze lingered on the disheveled image of Midnighter spread out on his and Dick's bed, cataloging the fact that there was a condom involved and at least he had one miracle to be thankful for in all of this. 

Somehow, it was that instant that tipped the scales, that pushed his anguish into anger and began the fiery heat of rage building inside him. His breath came back to him and the world stopped swimming and he closed his eyes to steady himself, to beg the world to throw him half a damn bone in the face of this.

His hand slowly curled into a fist, clenching until his fingers hurt, until he could feel the slide of anger from his fist up his arm and into his chest. He breathed it in, letting it coat the anguish, letting it kill every other emotion and when he opened his eyes again, he knew they were filled with the coldness of who he _could_ be if he ever let himself cross that line. He let it rest only on Dick, allowed him to see every ounce of this person Jason kept tucked away, this horrible ugly calm that writhed and seethed with hatred and pain. This was the Jason that had come back from the pit, the one who had thought only of vengeance. He let that man linger in his face, in his stance, in his eyes as he spoke. 

" _Get out_."

Midnighter was up in an instant, picking up his clothing and starting past him. Jason reached out and wrapped one hand around his bicep, holding on firmly, but not enough to hurt. He didn't look at him as he addressed him, rather keeping the same hard look on Dick the entire time. "Do yourself a favor and don't let him have your heart." He let go and while he heard the intake of breath that meant Midnighter had something to say, he tuned it out, only the quietest apology leaking into his mind, saturating enough for him to just let the guy go. This wasn't on him. The look of confusion had told him that. He hadn't _known_ about Jason. 

Dick hadn't told him.

Jason's hands trembled as he clenched them into fists again, listening to the sound of Midnighter getting dressed followed by the quiet murmur of, "Door," and the faint static in the air that Jason had always found indicative of such things. Once it had faded, he took a step toward Dick, watched him deflate onto the bed, clutching his clothing to his still naked body. 

"I don’t know what's worse. Walking in on this or realizing it's not the first time." Jason let himself walk to the edge of the bed, allowed himself the torture of seeing where Midnighter had been laying, where Jason himself would have laid down. The ghost of things he'd ignored in the past haunted his senses, the faint scent of Midnighter's presence a little too familiar. "I stand corrected, I know exactly what's worse." He let his voice harden. "Knowing I've watched videos of you and him together and couldn't recognize what I was seeing for what it was." He lifted his chin and all but sneered, " _Evidence_ ," allowing disgust to drip into the word, letting a snarl curl his lip, allowing his anger to eat at him for a minute.

"A weaker man would beat you for this."

Dick just sat there, his head bowed, his eyes on the comforter, and somehow that itched at Jason. He wanted the fight, wanted the screaming match if only to soothe himself with it, and Dick wasn't giving it to him. Not even after a comment like that. He could feel his nails digging into his own skin, felt the itch of it breaking, and he thought about what the family would think. How would it break Damian's heart to know Dick wasn't perfect after all? How angry would Bruce be that his golden boy betrayed _the dead one_? Would Tim take Dick's side or would this somehow shift him to Jason's for the first time in their history? Alfred. Alfred would be furious.

"How long?" The question was out before he could think better of it and he knew it would hurt him more to know, understood what he was doing to himself even as he did it. If there was enough pain, maybe he could sink and no one would blame him for it.

Dick shook his head a little and Jason watched as his eyelids slid closed, saw the single tear escape and run down his cheek. "I never wanted to hurt you."

" _Bullshit_." Rage reared up inside Jason and he knew he was raising his voice, knew and didn't care. "Such typical cheater talk. I expected more from you. Maybe the damn truth!"

Dick pulled his clothing closer and wrapped his arms around himself, finally looking up at Jason, sadness in his eyes. "Since before I was with you. We've been sleeping together since I was with Spyral."

Something prickled inside Jason and his breath caught. "You cheated on two people?!" The words burst out before he could stop them and somehow the pain was worse this way. He'd hoped Midnighter was just a fuck, even when he knew he wasn't. Knew those videos had been on there for nearly a year now.

"No. He and I aren't... _together_."

Jason almost wanted to laugh, felt the insane urge to do so tickle the edge of his senses until he knew this was what madness felt like. _Together_. What kind of meaningless word was that now?

"Jay, maybe... maybe we need some time apart. I just," Dick sounded desperate, as if he knew Jason's sanity was trying to escape at that very instant, "there's too much lust inside of me. This is entirely my fault. I want to treat you right, but I just can't keep it to myself. I don't... I didn't want to cheat! But he was there and he didn't know and I just... I did it! Okay? I did it!"

That ugly thing inside Jason hardened and he slammed up the only wall he had left to keep it from becoming a part of him he couldn’t unglue. He turned and he walked away. Distantly, he heard Dick begging him, heard words that held no relevance in his current existence. He simply turned around and reversed his steps through the house. His mask, his helmet, his emergency bag in the closet beside the front door, and then he was gone, closing the door quietly behind himself and escaping into the stairwell before he could second guess himself. 

If he didn't leave he wasn't sure who he'd become, wasn't sure what he'd do and if there was one thing in the world Jason had worked harder than anything else for, it was to ensure he wasn't ever going to become _that man_ ever again. 

He stepped out into Gotham's sticky hot night and he made a decision that had nothing to do with his heart and everything to do with saving this damned city.

He wouldn't tell the family. He wouldn't ruin Dick in their eyes, but he sure as shit wasn't forgiving him. He'd watched so many people go back only to be used as a doormat time and again, and he wouldn't be that _weak_. Jason Todd wasn't going to let himself be used.

Sliding his helmet back on, he tucked his mask into his pocket and took off back toward where he'd left his bike the night before. Opening his secondary comm he breathed out, "Roy?" and the crackle of a response on the other end was everything he could have asked for. It was a safe haven in his storm and he was only thankful Roy happened to be on mission in Gotham. 

At least something was working out tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Wicked Game by Theory of a Deadman / Nutshell by Alice in Chains

Jason sank down onto the vinyl bar stool, heard it crackle under him, the plastic covering perhaps older than he was, a remnant of an age long gone. Pain tugged at his senses, both from exhaustion and from his heart. He felt moreso saw Roy slide onto the stool beside him, then closed his eyes because he understood if there was one person left in this world that would protect him with everything he had, it was Roy. His hand trembled on the countertop and honestly, he couldn't be bothered to stop it.

Distantly, he heard Roy order their drinks, and gripped it when the glass was pushed against his fingertips, chilling his overheated skin. Anger heated his throat and the desire to scream rippled under his skin until he let out a strangled sound and shoved the bottle against his lips in some attempt to combat it. He chugged down a good third of it before clunking it back down against the counter.

Roy didn't ask, hadn't on the comm either. Jason had said he needed him and come without question. He'd slipped and said Roy's name rather than Arsenal and he'd just let that slide as well. He hadn't preached at Jason and judging from his silence, he understood something was very wrong and was waiting for Jason to initiate.

The rest of the first beer and two more disappeared between his lips before Jason felt like he could say a damn thing. He gazed down at the mat on the bar, pictures of all the usual beers on it so patrons could just tap on it to order rather than try to be heard over the din of their weekend crowds. It wasn't a weekend nor noisy, but Jason had still used it to order his second and third. 

He stared at the green bottle with the white label and little red star on the menu, and hatred coiled in his gut. It was what Dick usually ordered. He shoved his bottle over the image and looked up into the mirror along the back wall of the bar, and watched his lips move as he began to speak.

"He cheated on me. Walked in on it. Guess he was kinda cheating _with_ me, too, judging by the look on the other guy's face." That part hurt. Truly hurt. Jason wasn't a cheater. Sure, Dick had said he and Midnighter weren't together, but Jason suspected the truth was a little more convoluted than that. You don't just keep fucking the same person without something like attachment happening. And if they'd been doing it first, where did that leave him?

Roy's arm came to rest against Jason's, a light pressure, an offering of comfort without a display, and Jason let it be, let the contact try to calm the turmoil in his heart. He took a swig of his beer and let his gaze fuzz out. 

"I loved him."

"I know." Roy's voice was quiet, reserved of judgment and just as cool as Jason needed it to be and he wondered, not for the first time, how they'd gotten to a point where they walked away from the same team. Maybe those were the questions he needed to be asking himself rather than the ones presently bouncing around his mind.

"He has videos on his laptop... of them." He let the words settle out there, envisioned them as if he'd painted them in the air and left them where he could examine them, turn over the reason behind them. Why had Dick left them where Jason could see them? He _knew_ Jason used the folder they were in to store his own porn, had never told Jason not to watch his videos. Had he known Jason was jerking off watching them? Had that excited him and thrilled him and driven him back to Midnighter's arms? Was this –

_No._

Jason let his head fall forward and he swallowed hard. "This isn't my fault."

Roy's hand moved to rest on his arm, squeezing. "No, Jason, it's not. This is _not_ your fault."

"It hurts."

Roy squeezed harder, until Jason was watching his hand, until his mind cleared of the self-blame and he found his rage again. Only then did Roy let him go. "Of course it does. What he did was fucked up and you had to see it."

Jason's hand tightened around his bottle until his hand was shaking with the anger of it. Looking up into the mirror, he saw the anger, the rage boiling inside, and he pushed himself up. "Need to break something." He didn't bother stopping to see if Roy was following him, just skirted past the pool tables and out into the coming morning.

Almost four blocks later his phone began to ring in his bag and he hauled it around to the front of his body, rooting past his uniform pieces and plucked it out, seeing Roy's name flash on the screen. He answered at the last possible moment, pressing the phone to his ear and one-handedly zipping his bag back up. He didn't speak; didn't have to. Roy knew this wasn't about him, wasn't _because_ of him.

"Meet me on dock twelve. Civvies." The line cut and Jason hesitated, finally stepped out to the street to hail a cab and slid into the back, muttering where he wanted to go.

The guy didn't ask him to repeat himself, didn't even seem to bat an eyelash at how Jason slumped into his car and zoned out to somewhere between consciousness and isolation. It took a good twenty minutes to get to the docks and when they did, Jason just shoved thirty through the plastic caging between his seat and the driver's and stepped out onto the pavement. The car pulled away and he headed down toward twelve.

He caught sight of Roy on top of one of the shipping crates and didn't hesitate to climb up on top with him, settling down at his side, their feet dangling off the side. He took note of the two cases of beer just behind them and shot Roy a questioning look. Roy shrugged.

"Said you needed to break something. Cheapest beer I could find." Roy popped open the first case and plucked a bottle from it. He popped the lid open and tasted it, made a face and shook his head. "Tastes like shit. It deserves this." With that, Roy hauled off and threw it as hard as he could, watched as it smashed into the edge of one of the containers closer to the water and shattered, beer exploding everywhere. 

Getting the point, Jason reached for his case and tugged it over, ditching his bag to the side and ripping open the cardboard. Standing up, he picked up the first two bottles and closed his eyes, allowing the pain of the image he'd walked in on to wash over him. His breath caught at the image of Dick riding another man, of how aroused he'd been, how _at home_ he'd been and he let the dry sob choke up in his throat as he hurled the first one as hard as he could. He heard it shatter a few seconds later and he unleashed the second right behind it. 

"I hate you!" Snatching up two more, he slammed them toward the ground next to their container. "I hate you so fucking much, you dumb bastard!"

His hands curled into fists, anger working up through his body, spreading until he threw back his head and screamed just because it was the only thing he could think to do to get it out without actually finding Dick and punching him in his face for what he'd done. He heard the clunk of glass on the metal container and looked down where Roy had lined up two bottles for him and Jason didn't hesitate, unleashed his anger on them with a snarl, sending the first one skittering over the edge to crash halfway down the container, the second sailing off into the fading darkness and cracking open somewhere in the shadows.

Jason stood there seething until Roy stood up beside him and popped open another beer, handing it to Jason silently. He took a swig and almost gagged. It truly was vile. With a growl, he threw it toward the nearest container, listening to it smash into the metal wall. "This beer sucks!"

Roy chuckled at that, stepping closer to Jason and putting a hand on his shoulder, an action that kept him grounded in a way he hadn't expected. His chest still heaved with anger but he could feel it cooling as if Roy were lending him his calmness through his touch alone. "Let him go, Jay. Don't go back. Promise me that."

"Oh, I'm going back alright. Back to tell him it's over to his face because one of us has fucking _cajones_ and it ain't him."

Roy's fingers tightened for a moment. "Don't do anything you'll regret and don't you dare forgive this. You're worth more than being cheated on and you know it."

Jason may not have agreed with Roy's words, may not have thought himself worthy of a hell lot, but he knew better than to let himself be the doormat once he understood he'd been being treated like one. He'd do what he had to in order to walk away. He'd cut Dick out of his life and his heart with surgical accuracy and if he had to see him after he was done with that process, he'd treat him like a stranger. Clinical. _Deserved_.

He let Roy slip another bottle into his hand and even as he threw it, he could feel the desire to harm sliding away from inside him. Dick would get what he deserved and Jason wouldn't be _that_ guy in the process. He could be the bigger man here and he damn well would be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Demons by Jacob Lee, Russian Roulette by Rihanna

It took him all day to work up the courage to go back to his and Dick's apartment. Some part of him did it to give himself time to grieve what he was losing while the other part did it just to let Dick wallow in what he'd done and God Jason hoped he was wallowing. The cruel biting words he harbored in the depths of his mind wanted Dick to suffer, wanted him to know what it felt like to have his heart ripped out and stomped on when he least expected it.

Maybe it was that alone that led him to where he was, standing silently on their balcony, watching Dick go from the bathroom to what had been their bedroom clad in nothing but a towel. It hurt watching him and knowing it would be the last time; it was cruel to himself as much as it was an invasion of Dick's space.

Disarming the alarm, he slipped in through the door and left it open, let the outside world inside for some measure of making it not feel like he was trapped in this cage. He stepped into the bedroom just in time to see Dick bend over – sans towel – to get hold of his suit, about to pull it up over his legs. 

Anger and betrayal reared their ugly heads within him and nothing could have stopped him from moving across the room to the beautiful man he'd once thought he'd share his life with. Bitterness lay upon his tongue, his mind hazing out at the edges, and it was almost distantly that he felt his hands on Dick's body, that he felt himself pushing him down against the bed. His head dropped to rest on Dick's back, his eyes traveling down his spine to where Jason was pressed so tightly up against Dick's ass, right there, right where he'd once belonged, and the irrational urge to lay claim one last time came over him.

Every dry hitching sob brought him closer and closer to the edge of unbridled irrationality until he found himself fumbling his pants open. His fingers shook and his entire body trembled as he manhandled the ever-present condom in his pocket open and through some miracle got himself hard enough to get it on. He wasn't turned on, wasn't really wanting sex so much as he was desperate to say goodbye. 

Dick lay sprawled half on the bed and half off it, placid and utterly mute. He didn't push Jason away and he didn't tell him to stop, nor did he respond in any true way to what Jason was doing to him. It was that part that frustrated Jason more than anything.

His hands gripped Dick's hips and hauled him up enough to push at his hole, sloppy and desperate, choking on his breath until he shoved in and stilled, Dick fluttering around him. His hands tightened even more as the anger welled back up and he pulled out to shove back in as hard as he could. 

"How could you?! How could you do this to me? Tell me, Dick. Tell me," he slammed back in again, "how the _fuck_ could you break me like this?"

Dick just shook his head, finally whispering, "I'm so sorry, Jay."

Just like that the anger shattered into anguish and Jason started fucking into him harder, the tears finally spilling over, his words half-strangled and fragmented as they left the tightness of his throat. He whispered how he'd loved him more than he loved himself, how he'd given Dick everything he had left, built a damn life with him, and how it had all been shattered from the very beginning. He whispered until he was yelling, until he was climaxing and all he could do was cry and whisper, "I loved you... I loved you and... you never _ever_ loved me the way I loved you."

Breathing hard, he let himself be wracked by the tears and the guilt of what he'd just done, allowed himself to live in the self-pity of such a moment until he was soft and slipping out of Dick's hole and until he could feel Dick start to cry under him. Only then did he manage to pull away, to take the necessary steps back and whisper, "Goodbye."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song[s]: Revenge by MXMS

Jason sat next to Roy on his sofa staring numbly at the screen flickering in front of them. It'd been a week since he and Dick had broken up, and he'd left what little of his heart he had left shattered on their bed. It hadn't been his finest moment, surely hadn't been the right reaction to any of it, but he couldn't say he'd been in his right mind. _Still_ wasn't.

Roy's hand briefly pressed to his knee and then retreated. "Eat."

Mechanically, Jason picked up his plate from the seat beside him and began to absently shovel the Chinese take-out into his mouth. It was from his favorite place and yet, it tasted like cardboard, just like everything else had this week. His shake this morning tasted of chalk and the pills he swallowed to “function” (as Roy put it) tasted of bittering agent. The power bars he'd tried to live off of the first few days tasted just as much like cardboard as this did and somewhere in his mind he understood: this was shock, it was heartbreak and it was the onset of the much darker things the pit had left hanging at the fragile edges of his psyche. He understood that as much as he understood that Roy was trying to stop the slide from being quite so steep.

Bruce had called after Jason hadn't shown up for Sunday brunch at the manor and Jason had simply sent the call to voice mail. He'd let Roy listen to it, waved him off when he tried to tell him what had been said, asked only if Bruce knew or not and when the answer was a negative, he'd spent the rest of the day in bed and had been particularly cruel on the streets that night. 

Damian had texted _four_ times; it had been inevitable that Jason actually read them. The first had demanded to know what he'd done to Dick. Two days had passed and the other two messages had been softer, but not quite an apology. Jason suspected Dick had told him. The fourth had been a plea for Jason to rejoin them at night when he felt that he could and it had been one of the few things that had garnered any real emotion from Jason all week. It had felt warm in his chest, had briefly shown him hope, and he tucked it away to check on it later, filing it under the necessary heading of _family_.

Dick hadn't tried to contact him at all and for that much, Jason was thankful. He didn't want to see him or talk to him until it was unavoidable; even then, he wanted it to happen on his terms, because _he_ said so and not because of anything else. 

Roy's hand on his knee startled him out of his thoughts and he realized he was sitting with a mouthful of noodles he hadn't chewed or swallowed, realized he was gripping the plate far too hard and that his pulse was wild and desperate. 

"Most of us chew our food."

Jason made the effort, slowly chewed up the tasteless sludge of his food and swallowed it down, repeating the process three more times before putting the plate aside again and shaking his head, leaning back and attempting to retreat into himself again. But Roy was there almost instantly, his hand gently holding Jason's jaw, his eyes dark and fierce as he forced Jason to look at him. 

"You're not dying on my watch, do you understand that? Stop letting yourself fall into the pit all over again. He hurt you, but he didn't _kill_ you, Jason. Take it from someone who damn well knows what the slide to Hell looks like... you're on it. Get the fuck off of it."

He pushed lightly as he let go of Jason's jaw and stood up, folding his arms over his chest. "Don't make me bust out the Ensure and the vitamins, because I will and you'll hate it."

Jason stared up at him before finally deflating, leaning forward and hunching over, his arms on his thighs as he stared at the coffee table, the barest smattering of his things having accumulated there after Roy had gone to get them Monday. Pain lanced up inside him and he tipped his head back, looking up at Roy with tears in his eyes. 

"I hate this." His voice cracked and he wished like hell this part would stop.

"It will stop. Not today and not tomorrow, but it will." Roy's voice was softer this time as he reached to card his fingers through Jason's hair, giving it an affectionate scrub. "When Jade left me, it shattered me. There wasn't anyone to pick me up and I lost myself until you came along and did it for me. So I'm here, man. I'm here to pick you back up and show you where your path is, but I can't do it all alone. Give me what you can and I'll do the rest until you can do it for yourself again, alright?"

Jason swallowed against a whole other set of emotions, felt that warmth blossom in his chest again, brighter than it had with Damian and he let it burn, understood that he, too, was family; family that earned the right to call itself that and he'd never been more thankful in his life that he had a support network to get him through this. 

He closed his eyes, saw the path he'd been letting himself drag along, saw the ugly person at the end of it, saw the pain and anger drowned in violence and cement and he cut himself off from it, watching it flutter away as though it had never been attached at all. Somewhere, he grasped the piece of who he'd once been and held onto that fragile little thread and knew he'd watch it grow if he trusted Roy through it all. 

He'd let his best friend carry him until he could walk again. He would stand by his side until he could run again, and then... he vowed he'd never walk away from him again. He'd never let go of that precious thing he called _family_ ever again.


End file.
